


Friend of Mine

by amelia_vale_official



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Bottom Keith (Voltron), Cadets, Child Neglect, Childhood Friends, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galaxy Garrison, Hand Jobs, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jeith - Freeform, M/M, MFE pilots (Voltron) - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Protective James (Voltron), Protective Keith (Voltron), Roommates, Smut, Voltron Paladins - Freeform, endgame jeith, jaith - Freeform, james/keith - Freeform, toxic home life, tragic backstory, underage hand job
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 17:12:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15868065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_vale_official/pseuds/amelia_vale_official
Summary: "James didn't really know when it started, but whenever he thought about it, he decided he must have fallen for Keith the moment he jumped out of the swing when they were just kids."It started off slow and sweet, embarrassed to hold hands, smiling into shoulders during embrace, but gentle fire rose higher to scorch skin, and before he knew it, James was in love with the wild untamable cosmos that spun in Keith's eyes. Innocence and the pure beginnings of blossoming romance, they dreamt of their forever, but how cruel it is sometimes, to dream at all.((title inspired by song "Friend of Mine" by Avicii ft. Vargas & Lagola))





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is endgame Jeith, and there will be smut in future chapters. The first few chapters outline their pre-kerberos relationship, dating, and mainly just fluff. There will be no sheith romance, but Shiro is involved and plays a part in the story. Basically just friendsheith and wingman Shiro, as well as occasional adashi interaction, but this story is focused mainly around James and Keith. People on Tumblr wanted a fluffy endgame Jeith romance where James is happy, they're both happy, so here we are.

"Keith, what are you doing?" James asked around his plastic fork, eyeing the black haired boy who'd stood from his place on the blanket to instead stand at the trunk of the tree, one hand against the side of it as he leaned close.

His back was to James so all he could see was the ends of his mullet brushing the back collar of his red and white coat, the sleeves pushed up to stop before his elbows. James could see small pieces and larger chunks of bark falling to the grass from whatever it was Keith was doing, and James narrowed his eyes suspiciously as the other cadet paused to cast a look over his shoulder.

"If you try and stop me I'll kick you."

"You make it seem like you're committing a crime," James chided, dropping the fork onto his plate and crossing his legs, leaning forward with his hands on his ankles, "Tell me what you're doing."

"In a minute, just let me finish," Keith insisted, turning back to the tree, "and don't try to look either. Just eat your salad and shut up."

James rocked back with a rough sigh, head tilting back so he could stare up at the blue of the sky, counting the cottony clouds that were slowly easing their way overhead. It was always a wonder to see clouds in such a hot and dry climate like this one, so James enjoyed simply watching them for a moment as he continued to rock himself sideways, mind wandering listlessly.

These little getaways had become a lot more common in the past few weeks. Whenever they had a day off from schoolwork at the Garrison, and Keith didn't have any previously made plans with Shiro, James would insist they do something together, just get away for a little where people weren't staring at them waiting for them to get into another fight.

It had been months since that happened, James recalled. The memory of that day in the simulators still made him wince in guilt, a sour taste trapped in his mouth not made better by the memory of iron washing over his tongue from the wicked left hook Keith threw into his jaw. He had deserved it, he really did, and after a few hours had past, James' anger simmered down to leave a feeling of remorse.

He wasn't a bad kid, and he wasn't mean, in any other circumstances he never would have said any of what he did, especially to Keith. They'd been in the simulators for hours that day, of course Keith would be getting restless enough to shoot out of formation after knocking another pilot out of line. Of course he would have wanted to do something more exciting than just follow orders, no matter who was giving them.

James knew, because he'd been getting restless too. He just had more self control (he liked to think), and was able to keep himself from going off the handle like Keith did. He'd been tired too, sweating from the fact those pods weren't exactly air conditioned, thirsty and hungry. Then Keith had to go off on his own, and get them stuck doing the exact same sim drills for an entire week.

That's why he'd lashed out, why he'd said those biting, harsh things to Keith, bringing up his parents, though his offence had been cut off mid sentence by Keith's anger. It was a terrible explanation, a horrible excuse to give when they were both dragged out of the room and to the principal, where Shiro smoothed things over regarding Keith's attack. James had to go in on his own to settle things by himself, dropping himself into the seat in front of the principal's desk, hands in fists at his knees, shoulders hunched and head bowed.

"Cadet-."

"He started it!" James remembered lifting his head, eyes wide in desperation to be believed, "He was the one who stepped out of line and got the whole class in trouble."

"While I understand that, it does not justify your comment. It isn't your duty to give punishment for a fellow cadet's mistakes, you let the professors handle Cadet Kogane when he steps out of line. The comment that you did make was completely out of line, I know your history, you've been in school with Keith from the time you were both just little children. Surely you comprehend his family position, or lack there of. Are you listening, James?"

James nodded his head, which was yet again bowed so he could stare at his hands. He knew. Everyone knew. It was a big deal when it happened. Keith's father was well known, not quite famous, but for a seasonal fireman considered a hero, he and his station had been in the papers enough times for James to recognize him whenever he dropped Keith off at school and returned to pick him up afterwards.

The memories were vague and shrouded in mist, reminding him just how much time had past since then. Keith was small back then, both of them had just been little kids. James could almost remember a time when they played together during recess. A time when Keith wasn't as brooding and shadowed. He smiled back then, he talked about firefighting and flying, he would give out facts that a five or six year old probably shouldn't know.

James could almost remember a time when they were both sitting on the swings, James pushing himself slowly while Keith swung as high as he could possibly get, a huge grin on his dirty, sun bitten face, black hair flying in his bright indigo eyes.

"Watch this! I'm gonna jump off and fly and go right up to the stars!"

"You're gonna fall on your face and get in trouble," James could feel his lips forming to make the words, not that Keith listened as he pulled his arms in and practically threw himself from the seat with a yell.

James had winced, covering his eyes with his hands at when Keith hit the ground with a grunt. There were no tears though, no crying, and when James pulled his hands away Keith was sitting about five feet away from the still swinging seat, hair sticking up and looking dizzily at his hands.

"Keith!" James jumped off to help, but Keith was only pouting as he crouched down to see his palms, which had been rubbed raw and were bleeding.

The knees of his jeans had both ripped, and there was a scratch down the side of his nose, a gravel rash on his chin. All bleeding, but Keith just looked disappointed as he looked up at the sky while James took his wrists.

"I told you you'd fall, dummy! Now you're gonna get yelled at!"

"I'll just try next time," Keith smiled, fingers splaying but not pulling his hands from James, "Didja know? There's a school somewhere near here were you can get taught how to fly in space! My pop says I can fly if I really want to, that if anyone is meant to touch stars it's me."

"You can't fly, you're just a kid," James had said, helping Keith to his feet, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I'll walk you to the nurse."

"I'm gonna do it, I swear," Keith turned to look James in the eye, determination on his scrunched up face, "I'm gonna fly in space and be a hero like my pop!"

James just watched him with lips twisted into a bored pout, "Well, what's so cool about it?"

"We'll get to see other planets!" Keith explained, "We'll get to walk on the moon, and go to Mars and Pluto! We could meet aliens!"

"Those don't exist!"

"Yea-huh!" Keith hopped as he spun back to James, "Pop said so! He says aliens exist, and that means Bigfoot exists too! Betcha I can find him!"

"You're stupid!"

"You're just boring!"

The jabs didn't hurt either of them, and James chased Keith into the little schoolhouse to to the nurse, who sighed as she cleaned his hands and knees before dabbing them with ointment and bandaging them.

"Just like your father," she hummed to herself, wrapping white strips of bandages around his hands, "Just as reckless and wild," she smiled as Keith hopped off the chair to stand with James, hands on her hips, "You better keep an eye on that one, James. He's a wild child."

James didn't even know what that meant back then, but he said okay and grabbed Keith by the wrist, his other hand on his hip as he gave the other boy a stern look, "No more being wild! You have to go to school and get a job!"

"I'm gonna be an astronaut," Keith said, looking confused, "That's a job," his eyes brightened, "Or I'll fight fires like my pop! I'll be a hero just like him!"

He didn't seem to care when James dragged him from the room by his hand, both of them talking as they went and discussing what they wanted to be when they grew up. First James wanted to be a doctor, then a teacher, but Keith kept adding ridiculous ideas like cryptozoologist ("I'm gonna be the one to find Bigfoot, just watch me!"). Somewhere at the end of their conversation Keith was pulling at his bandages, eyes up at the sky, legs stretched out over the steps in front of the school.

"We could both be astronauts, too. We could fly space ships together, and fight aliens, and fight water on Jupiter."

"There's no water on Jupiter, stupid," James had argued, but Keith just grinned at him.

"There will be when we find it!"

James remembered the deep voice that called Keith by name after that, how excited he got when he jerked to his feet and sprinted over to where a man was standing beside a red hoverbike, crouching down to balance on the balls of his feet and reaching his arms out to embrace Keith when he was close enough, a huge grin on his own face as Keith's black hair flew into it, making him laugh.

"Pop, I'm gonna be an astronaut when I grow up! I'm gonna go fly through space with James!"

"Are you?" his father had held him out a bit, hands on his shoulders, arching his scarred brow and rubbing a thumb across the bandage on Keith's chin, "What happened here?"

"I jumped off the swing to see if I could fly," Keith explained, pouting at the ground, "I couldn't."

"Well that's 'cuz you're still a baby," his father tried to explain, hands slotting under Keith's arms and scooping him up, hugging him tightly as Keith's little arms came around his neck with a giggle, "Give it a few good years and you'll be flyin' like a bird in no time! Just like yer mom!"

James was smiling at the exchange from where he sat on the steps of the school, frowning when a car pulled up and the window rolled down for his father to step out of the drivers side. James got to his feet and hopped down the steps, turning when he heard someone call to him and waving at Keith, who was propped up in his father's arms, waving one of his bandaged hands wildly.

"Bye James!"

"Get in the car, son," his father said, opening the back door to block James' sight, bringing a tiny frown to his lips, though he tried to fight it as he climbed into the car and scooted to the other side, buckling himself in.

He barely caught the exchange of tense eye contact between his father and Keith's, who seemed to be holding Keith a bit tightly, protectively, only relaxing when James' father slid back into the driver's side of the car, shutting the door and starting the engine. James pressed his face against the window to watch Keith's father set him on the seat of the hoverbike, leaning against the handles as he waited patiently for the Griffin's car to pass.

James remembered his mother in the front seat offering the fireman a smile and a wave of her fingers as they passed, the way Keith's father offered a curt yet clearly disinterested nod in return before turning his full attention to Keith.

"Stop waving," James' father said stiffly, and his mother dropped her hand to her lap, scowling, "It's indecent."

"Don't be rude."

"That man is a bad influence. Look at him, who puts a child on the back of a bike like that? He's not even wearing a helmet. That boy is going to die because of his father's carelessness," his mother sighed with a roll of her eyes, and his father looked back at him, "James, I don't want you talking to that kid, Keith."

James frowned at that, "Why not? I like Keith. He's wild so I need to keep an eye on him."

"That's none of your concern, son. I don't want you around him, he'll just end up a bad influence to you. You have your schoolwork to focus on. Do you understand me?"

James opened his mouth, then closed it, leaning back against the seat of the car, "Okay..."

He knew better than to disobey an order his father gave him, so the next day when he saw Keith, who waved eagerly to him, he turned away. That was the beginning of it. There were still times when he got stuck with Keith, and they would talk and laugh together, and James would remember he liked Keith. Then he would remember what his father said, he would get anxious, and he would walk away.

The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble. There was a moment after school one day where Keith was standing off to the side, kicking at the dirt and looking over at James now and again, a lonely pout on his lips, and James wanted to say something, but stayed standing stiff in place waiting for his father.

He felt excitement and something else, maybe jealousy, when Keith's father rode up on his bike and Keith ran up to him, throwing himself against his leg and bringing a laugh out of the older man, though the smile faded and he leaned down, hand on Keith's cheek.

"Eyes are red. What happened?"

Keith just frowned, keeping his eyes down, "James doesn't ever play anymore. I don't think he likes me," his father frowned deeply at that, tensing when his son gave him a confused look, "Did I do something?"

"No, son," he got off the bike, goggles hanging around his neck, "This isn't your fault," he seemed to wait for James' father to pull up before striding across the driveway, Keith scrambling after him and latching onto his leg once he'd stopped, "Griffin, a word."

James' father paused with a hand on the open back door, eyes narrowing in their direction, "I don't quite have time for you today."

"No need to worry about that, just listen. Whatever problems you may have with me, and for whatever reason they exist, it's immature to leech those opinions onto your son."

The other man just shut the car door with a slam, turning to face the fireman, "How I raise my son-."

"You're forcing your will onto him by telling him to stay away from Keith. That is not how you raise a child."

Griffin just scowled and snapped his gaze down to James, who jumped and scrambled over to the door, yanking it open and climbing into the car as if he was in trouble. His father then shot his glare to Keith's father.

"My son has a future ahead of him, I don't want it ruined by hanging around some degenerate scum."

The fireman grinned, but it was more like a grimace as his shoulders squared, "Insult me all you want, but if you bring my son into it-."

"He's no better than a bastard living in a desert hovel," Griffin sneered, "Why on earth would I want my son to associate with a motherless freak."

Clearly those words didn't sit right with Keith's father, who seemed to start forward before pulling himself back, reaching down to place a hand on Keith's head, holding him against his leg where he was clinging, peering at the other man with wide, confused eyes.

"Your priority should be your son's happiness," the fireman said simply, turning and leaning down to pick Keith into his arms, heart breaking at the way he hid his little face against his neck, "At this rate, he'll hate you. Do you want that, Griffin?"

That was the end of it. Years passed by like a frame by frame home movie. James could still recall how the need to be near Keith, to play with him and laugh with him and talk with him, became overshadowed by his need to please his father, the fear of hearing him yell when he was angry or disappointed. There were still those moments in class when they would lean towards each other and laugh at something secret, but then James would be sitting straight again, nails biting into his palms begging that his father wouldn't learn that he'd talked with Keith.

It got bad one day after school when they were both waiting at the top of the steps together.

"I'm still going to be a pilot," Keith was saying, head tilted to look up at the sky, "That school is called the Galaxy Garrison, it teaches kids like us how to fly ships and travel through space."

James felt a spike of excitement as he turned to face Keith, "I wanna go there too!" he said in shock, "My dad used to work there, did you know? He brought me catalogs of the school, and my mom brought me there last summer! The school is so big, and I got to see some of the ships!"

Keith beamed, spinning on his heel, "Pop and I go home for the summer, and our house is out in the desert in the Garrison's backyard! Sometimes he brings me to a really big hill and points it out, it looks so cool!"

James wanted to say more, he wanted to give Keith statistics on fighter and space pilots, give him a general age range that you need to be to apply to the Garrison, but his words were torn from his throat when he saw his father's car in the distance. He scrambled to the other side of the steps to put distance between himself and Keith, who looked as if he'd been punched.

"Tell me more," he urged, walking towards James, "I won't tease you, I promise. I wanna be a pilot too. We can join together, can't we? It'll be fun!"

"Stay away from me," James snapped, and Keith's smile fell into an expression of confusion in response to the snarl James was giving him, "I don't want to be your flight partner, I don't even want to be in class with you. Stay away from me."

He could hear the door to his car open, but his father didn't call for him, and he felt panic crowd his throat, becoming desperate as Keith pouted, "Why not? I won't crash. Pops lets me drive the hover-."

"I said stay away from me!" James yelled in Keith's face, leaning towards him and making him back up, "I don't want you anywhere near me, I don't want to be your friend! No one wants to be your friend, cuz you're a degenerate! And dirty! And your dad is a waste of space!"

Anger flashed in Keith's eyes, which seemed to glint a different color entirely as he pushed back into James' face, "Take that back! My dad is the best person to ever exist! He's a hero and he saves lives! He's brave and he's nice! Your dad is the one who wastes space! He's mean and he's ugly too!"

"Shut up!" James shoved his hands against Keith's chest.

His intention was to push him back a few steps before running down and getting into the car to go home. He really didn't realize the stairs were there until Keith suddenly wasn't in front of him anymore. Instead he was lying at the bottom of the steps, limbs trembling and eyes pinched closed as he whimpered and struggled to sit up.

James had never seen him cry before. Even when he jumped off the swing and scraped his hands and knees. There were tears in his eyes know, hiccuping as he reached both hands back to hold his head. James felt panic spike up his spine as he stumbled down to help.

"I'm sorry!" he said, voice high pitched, "I didn't mean it! Your dad is super cool, and you're not a degenerate!"

He reached out when he dropped to his knees in front of Keith, both hands feeling over Keith's fingers before his father came up and grabbed his wrist, yanking him away from Keith and dragging him away from where the other boy was sitting, crying. It was just lucky, maybe bad luck, that his father rode up then, clearly noticing his son crying and turning his bike to the side sharply to grind to a sudden stop, throwing his goggles down as he hopped off and ran for the stairs.

"Keith!" he dropped down next to his son, who was sobbing, pulling his little hands away from his head and holding them out to show blood on his fingers.

"Popa," he whimpered, and his father quickly collected him into his arms before standing up.

"I've got you, son, I'm right here," he hushed him, sending a glare over to the Griffin's that was so searing James started to shake, "Stay away from my son," he hissed, and James felt tears prick in his eyes as his father scoffed.

"Finally we're on the same page," he turned and opened the back door, half throwing James into the backseat, "Buckle down and shut up," though his tone changed when the doors were all shut, "I'm proud of you, James. How about we go get some ice cream?"

James just stared down at the red on his hands as tears continued to fall down his cheeks, lifting his head and scrambling to the window to press his face against it and watch as Keith remained huddled in his father's arms, the man taking a seat on his bike and picking his goggles up before searching a pack on the bike, pulling out what looked like bandages.

Of course, he was a first responder, it made sense he had medical knowledge. James relaxed with the thought that Keith would be okay, but that incident changed their dynamic forever. Keith stopped trying to talk to him entirely, though he did still smile and play with others in their class. He seemed like a generally happy and normal kid, until the fire.

Smoke inhalation, that's what had done it. That, and severe burning to his right side. James didn't hear about it until his father slapped the newspaper down with a sneer.

"I told you," he said to his wife, smacking the newspaper, "I told you he was trouble."

He had no other family, so the funeral was open to the community. James saw Keith standing between two of his father's coworkers, two more firemen with heads bowed and tears on faces of heroes who seemed indestructible.

Keith didn't cry. He just stood there watching them lower the coffin into the cracked desert ground. He took a few steps forward like he wanted to follow, like he was confused, and the blond man to the right grabbed his shoulder to stop him. It wasn't until the hole had been filled and the procession left that Keith started to cry.

James had managed to break away from his parents and sneak his way over to where Keith was standing alone in front of the gravestone, reaching out with great hesitation before curling a hand around his wrist.

"Keith?"

It was his voice that had Keith ripping his hand away, turning to gape at him with wide, angry eyes, "Stay away from me," he said, repeating the same thing James had snapped to him before shoving him down a set of stairs.

And that was that, the end of their interaction until they joined the Garrison. Sure they continued to share classes, but they never spoke to each other, barely acknowledged the other. Keith withdrew into himself completely, James threw himself into his studies and making his father proud.

Until that fist fight that James knew he deserved. The ache in his jaw was well deserved, the shake of his hands was well deserved. After treating Keith so horribly for so long. He deserved it, but he was happy the principal decided not to contact his parents. It was unlikely they would care at this point, but avoiding the phone call helped calm him down enough to apologize to the principal and promise to apologize to Keith.

He didn't, not at first. He kept remembering his father's funeral when Keith smacked his hand away telling him not to touch him. Kept remembering how he'd pushed him accidentally down the stairs. It was the memory of how they'd daydreamed together about being at the Galaxy Garrison that finally broke him, shoulders sagging as he went in search of the other cadet.

Keith was outside when he found him, crouching beside a hoverbike that was so painfully similar to that of his late father's. Garrison issued but a little banged up. Keith had goggles pushed up into his hair, making the fringe stick up and showing off the widow's peak hairline, red and white coat on his shoulders with the sleeves pushed up.

No one else was around, so James shuffled on his feet a bit before inching himself closer, "Keith," he called out so as not to startle the other pilot, watching his back tense, his hands no longer fumbling with whatever it was he'd been doing.

He stood up, stuffing a piece of paper into his pocket and turning to glare in James' direction. They both still had bruises, one of Keith's gloves was off showing bruised and scraped knuckles, some of which had been bandaged up. The bits of trash on the ground at his feet showed that he'd been in the process of changing those bandages before James had walked up.

Keith didn't ask what he wanted, just continued to glare at him, and James couldn't seem to get anything out when he opened his mouth. What was he even supposed to say? I'm sorry for bringing up your dead parents and the fact you're an orphan, all good? No, that wasn't enough. That wasn't nearly enough, but James was losing his chance as Keith turned, pulling the goggles over his eyes and throwing a leg over the seat of the hoverbike.

"Do you remember when you said you wanted to fly with me?!" James blurted before Keith could start the bike, feeling his cheeks burn in humiliation at the fact that was the only thing he could think of to say, "You-you used to... remember? I mean, in the past, you always talked about being an astronaut, and flying with me through the stars. Remember?"

"I don't know," Keith finally spoke, pulling the goggles to hang around his neck, "I hit my head pretty hard. Some memories are fuzzy."

It took James a minute to realize that Keith was making a joke at both their expenses, and it wasn't funny at all, "I'm... I didn't mean to push you. You gotta know that."

"Who cares? It's done," Keith reached into his pocket, pulling out another band-aid and tearing it open, "If you have something to say then say it. You have five minutes, because I have plans."

"I... I just wanted..."

"Tick tock."

"God you're a dick!" James yelled, hands in fists, "I'm trying to apologize!"

"What for?"

"For-for instigating you before!" James took a breath, looking around the area nervously to make sure there was no one else out there, "I didn't mean to say those things about your parents; and... I'm sorry for before when I pushed you. I'm sorry for yelling at you to stay away from me, and I'm sorry I started being such an asshole. I'm... I'm sorry I couldn't be there when... when your dad..."

Keith seemed to be concentrating deeply on the band-aid he was wrapping around his knuckle, brow drawn in a sign he was barely paying attention, gritting his teeth and letting out a tch when he wrinkled the band-aid, tearing it off in annoyance and crumpling the useless thing with the rest of the garbage, throwing it on the ground before reaching for another band-aid from his pocket.

"Keith," James sighed, stepping forward and snatching the band-aid from him, peeling it open, "No one can bandage their own hands. Give it."

Keith glared at him in suspicion for a moment, hand in a loose fist against his chest, though after a moment he anxiously reached out, shoulders tense as he watched James carefully place the bandage to cover the scraped knuckle.

"You really need to clean these. Don't even tell me these are all from when you punched me."

"I punched an engineer cadet," Keith said, staring at his hand as James finished smoothing the edges carefully.

"What for? Give me another band-aid."

Keith's lips twisted into a scowl as he dug a handful of band-aids out of his pockets and gave them to James, who gave him a narrow eyed look as he stuffed them in his own pocket, keeping one out.

"... he called me a pity case," Keith mumbled, and James winced as he tore open the second band-aid, "Called Shiro stupid for letting me into the Garrison."

"... oh..."

James hoped it would end there, holding Keith's hand carefully as he wrapped the bandage around his finger, but Keith didn't seem to be finished as he spoke again.

"You think so too," it was a statement, and James looked up at him to see his head was bowed, fringe of dark hair hiding his eyes, "You think the only reason I got in is because of Shiro. It's okay, I get it-."

"That's not-! I only said that cuz I was really tired! It's hot in those simulators, and we were there for hours, I was tired and frustrated! I don't think... I mean, I was there when Officer Shirogane brought that simulator game, remember? I saw you pass all those levels like you were born to it, and... you were right, you could out fly anyone in this building! Especially me! You daydreamed about flying forever, remember you would try and fly off the swing and you'd just hurt yourself and try again the next day."

Keith didn't meet James' eye, slipped his hand from James and turned, running his thumb over the backs of his knuckles, "Hm..."

"You just need more discipline, and you need to obey your superiors. Stop getting into fist fights and stop showing off in the simulators," James had his hands on his hips as he scolded Keith, who tilted his head to the side.

"I obey superiors. I listen to Shiro."

"Yea, when you want to," James chided, "You can't pick and choose the orders you want to follow, that's not how things work."

"Maybe you just need to lighten up," Keith offered, his elbow propped against the handlebars and his chin in his hand as he stared at James, "You're too uptight. How about this," Keith sat up, and there was a suspicious glint in his eyes as he offered a wolfish grin, "Come with me, I'm about to take a ride."

"What?" James was immediately on edge, looking back and forth, "Keith you can't do that! It's against the rules! You cannot just take off on a joy ride in the middle of the school week!"

"So are you declining my offer?"

"Yes! Now get off that thing, you should be doing homework and studying!"

"That was a trick question and you failed," Keith blanched, turning and reaching into his pocket to pull out fingerless black gloves, carefully slipping them on over the bandages as James stared at him.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nah it's fine, maybe next time."

"No, I'm... confused..."

"Keith, were you waiting long?"

James tensed again and looked off to the side as Keith leaned back, glancing back over his shoulder at where Shiro was stepping towards them, dressed more casually than James had ever seen before, sporting a simple white tshirt covered by a black leather jacket, goggles hanging around his neck and a smile on his lips that only faded a bit when he noticed James standing there.

He stood at attention and swung his right arm up in a salute, but Shiro quickly tried to stop him, "At ease, cadet, I'm not even in uniform right now," he chuckled, walking around the other side of Keith's hoverbike, "So what's this? Are you two friends now?"

"Uh."

"No," Keith quickly answered before James could, "He came to apologize."

"Did he?" Shiro eyed James before tilting his head, "And did you also apologize?"

"What for?" Keith mumbled, messing with his gloves, and Shiro quirked an eyebrow.

"You know, for punching him."

"He deserved it."

"I ki-kinda did, sir," James blurted, and Keith gave him a startled look as Shiro hummed again, "I spoke out of turn and brought up a topic I had no business digging into, sir, and I did apologize, and I do mean it with my entire heart."

Both dark eyes just stared at him before Shiro hummed and turned to the second hoverbike parked next to Keith's, "Well, you don't need to tell me that," he assured, settling down on the seat, "You're a good kid, Griffin, but even good kids make mistakes and say the wrong things sometimes. Recognizing you made a mistake and acting on it to make it right is a sign of a good conscience."

"Tha... thank you, sir?"

Shiro turned on the engine of his bike, pulling the goggles down over his eyes, "Ready, buddy?"

"Yea," Keith pulled down his own goggles, and James took a few steps away once he realized what they were doing, opening his mouth to say something more but cut off when Keith turned the engine on, looking over at him and calling over the roar, "I'm sorry for punching you," he said, turning to glance at Shiro, who was looking at something to the left, probably checking something on his hoverbike, before glancing again at James, "and I forgive you for everything."

James hesitated, "Even pushing you down the stairs that one time?"

"Yea," Keith revved his engine, grinning in a somewhat demented way, "Too bad, though, my pops'll never forgive you."

With that, the two of them were gone, and James was left to pick up the garbage Keith had carelessly dropped to the ground, carrying to a trash bin and wiping his hands on his pants before looking over his shoulder again at the dust clouds trailing behind Keith.

"James. James!"

His eyes snapped open, holding back a scream of surprise when he saw Keith kneeling at his head, leaning over him and just inches from his face.

"Wh-what are you doing?!"

"You fell asleep," Keith explained, a hand on James' forehead, and he didn't seem too bothered by the touch, so James didn't complain, "I'm done, you wanna see?"

"O-oh, yea sure," James agreed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

He'd been so lost in that dream, the memories, how he knew Keith and what lead them up to this point. Still just cadets in the Garrison, still studying, but... friends. Not just friends, either. James didn't really know when it started, but whenever he thought about it, he decided he must have fallen for Keith the moment he jumped out of the swing when they were just kids. Keith's unbridled sense of adventure, lack of fear as he flew threw the air with his arms out, eyes pinched closed, hair blown away from his little face and mouth open in a yell, all made James chuckle fondly.

It just took a few years, maybe more than a few years, to compose those strange feelings into an actual word. Like. Yea, that was it. James liked Keith, a lot. This crush of his had been developing for a long time, and sure there had been some road blocks, ones that James had put there himself, they seemed to have found some sort of common ground.

Even better, Keith seemed to return his "like" feelings. That's why they were there on one of their days off from school, a blanket spread out on the ground beneath a tree and a small picnic shared between them. Just one of the simple dates they'd gone on since James asked Keith out. Of course, that had been just as interesting of an experience.

James recalled sitting with another cadet, looking over homework, when Keith walked up to his desk. By then they'd developed a general friendship with each other, but the rest of the Garrison didn't exactly know that, so the other teen sitting across from James tensed up before pushing himself and his seat away from the desk and down the aisle away from them, clearly anticipating a fight.

James didn't look up from his work, but he definitely recognized Keith's presence, "What's up?"

"Are you free after school?"

"I have some homework," James answered, lifting one of the papers up, "and so do you. Why?"

"I wanted to go into Plaht for something."

"Are you even allowed to do that?"

"Yea, I have a permit."

James lifted his eyes to see the paper Keith was holding out, "Keith that's a pink slip. You have detention."

"Oh... well are you free tomorrow then?"

James sighed, head tilting, "Yea, sure. Can't you go with Shiro, though?"

"No," Keith sounded pretty certain about that, so James didn't question it.

The next day was spent walking through Plaht, watching a movie before getting a bite to eat at a corner cafe, then allowing himself to get dragged into a pointless side store that sold a myriad of useless junk. He was fine with it, though, seeing Keith so excited to be out and about, rummaging through a bin of stuffed animals in the back of the store just for fun.

James didn't know that day was supposed to have been a date. Keith never said "do you want to go on a date", so James didn't pick up on it at all, until another week passed and James confronted Keith, coughing before clearing his throat against his fist and asking Keith to go out with him.

Keith had stared blankly at him, "Like... dates..."

"Yea, I mean... if you want to... be my boyfriend?" James winced, Keith just gave him an even more confused face.

"Weren't... we already dating?"

James blinked at that, "What?"

"Last week we went on a date," Keith said, "Remember? We watched a movie and stuff. You said okay when I asked, so I just thought..."

"Wait, that was a date?" James gaped, "I thought you... wait, what?"

"So were we not already boyfriends?" Keith asked, squinting and looking fully at a loss in the conversation, "You said yes."

"All you did was ask if I'd go into town with you!" James held his hands out, "You never asked me on a date!"

"Well, I figured the subtext was there," Keith muttered, cheeks red, "I couldn't say it the whole way."

"I'm still really confused," James said in distress, then lifted his hands and rubbed them over his face, "Okay, I have a class in like three minutes, so let's start over," he reached out, grabbing Keith's hands and leaning closer to him, "Will you be my boyfriend?"

Keith just stared at him with wide eyes before snorting, eyes closing as he laughed, and it was the first time in... years, that James had heard him laugh so care-freely.

"Yea, okay," he agreed, lifting a hand to rub his cheek absently, looking off to the side, cheeks tinted pink, "That might be okay. Just remember I technically asked first."

"Hardly," James scoffed.

That was how they ended up there, standing under the tree, with James staring at the geometrically lopsided heart that Keith had cut into the bark of the tree, with the initials J+K carved in the middle. James wasn't sure if he was embarrassed, touched, or unnerved, turning to look at Keith, who frowned.

"What? You don't like it?"

"Where did you get a knife?"

Keith pouted, holding his pocket knife up, "So you don't like it after all."

"No, it's...," James looked at the tree again, clearing his throat, "S'fine, I guess," he held his hand over his nose to hide the blush, "Just... suppose we're lucky you didn't cut into a tree at the Garrison. That would be vandalism, and I'd have to report you to Commander Iverson."

"Yea, that'll be fun to explain," Keith turned, slipping his knife into his pocket and holding his hands up, "Sorry sir, my boyfriend is uncontrollable. Are we even allowed to date at the Garrison?"

"That's... a fair question, but I mean, we're not in a concentration camp."

"That's a bad comparison, Griffin," Keith scolded, dropping down onto the blanket and reaching for a Tupperware of sliced fruit, looking up when James took too long to sit back down, "Hey, designated boyfriend, are you going to stand there and lament over the tree I mutilated in order to immortalize our dumb relationship forever, or are you going to help me eat the food I stole from the commissary."

"You did what?"

"Eat, we only have like two more hours before we need to be back," Keith complained with a pout, "Enjoy it with me."

James rolled his eyes a bit and walked back over to the blanket, sitting down beside Keith and accepting the fork he was offered, watching the other cadet from the corner of his eyes as he stuck a cube of watermelon into his mouth. James caught himself doing this a lot these days, a lot more than he used to now that they were actually... well, dating.

He just stared at Keith sometimes, unable to get enough of his presence, trying to memorize the shape of his face, the slope of his nose, the frown lines set between his brows that had finally started to even out, and the dark sheen to his indigo eyes. They were blue, James knew that, but they were just... such a dark shade of blue that at times they looked like pits of tar or pools of ink. Other times, in certain lighting, they seemed to glint violet, especially when he was angry or agitated.

His black hair was in an untamable mullet, bangs brushing above his brows, and James sometimes found himself wishing he could touch it. It would be okay, right? They were dating after all, it should be fine to run his fingers through his boyfriend's black hair. It was so bizarre to think about. They'd been on a handful of dates, yet they hadn't even held hands yet. God... what a stressful relationship.

"Guess that nurse was right," James said to no one in particular, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the clouds as they shifted form and drifted by.

"Hm," Keith urged him to finish his thought, and James shut his eyes with a crooked smile.

"You are absolutely a wild child who needs to be watched."

"Fuck you, Griffin."


	2. Chapter 2

In retrospect, James honestly should’ve been expecting this. Keith could be a little shit, he could be spiteful, and he certainly did have a thing for knives. There was even a poster hanging up in his dorm room, illustrated with different blades in addition to statistics and facts about those particular blades. James half figured he should be concerned, but the other half of him that thought everything about Keith was adorable just shrugged, “Everyone needs a good hobby!”

He changed his mind when he was passing one of the trees planted along the Garrison walkway, book open in his hands and face drawn as he tried to plan his schedule around his studies. Some people would call him anal, Keith would constantly call him nitpicky and uptight, but maintaining his studies and grades was all he could do to keep his parents from storming the Garrison.

James never wanted to think about it, but if he slipped up even once, then his father would be there in a matter of hours demanding answers, “Why did you get a B- on this test, James?” He would notice Keith there, he would put the puzzle pieces together, worst case scenario he would find out through word of mouth that he and Keith were… not just casual friends. After that, who knows what he would do to Keith.

He knew his father would never pull him from the Garrison, but he could still interfere with Keith’s future there, and James didn’t want that. So in order to protect Keith, and to avoid his father, he had to be uptight and stick to the rules, even the mundane rules like not walking on the grass and no littering, because he still wanted to fly with Keith.

“What is that? A heart?” James barely heard the voice in front of him, “Oh, I know who that is! Kim and Jared, they’re fourth years!”

“Are you sure? I don’t know if they’d do this. Jeeze, who carves their initials into trees these days? How lame.”

James stopped in his tracks, lifting his head before sharply turning it to look at the tree the two other cadets had been looking at, feeling his resolve stutter when he noticed the familiar lopsided heart carved into the bark with J+K etched in the middle. Really, he should’ve expected Keith to do something this ridiculous, probably out of spite. James could imagine the little smirk on his lips.

His book snapped closed and he broke into a run, sliding into his classroom eight minutes before the bell and slamming into the professor’s desk due to the momentum he’d been going at.

“Sorry sir!” he piped an apology to the uniformed fighter pilot before stumbling around the desk and going straight towards the back window where Keith was at his seat, rocking on the back legs of the chair and flipping through what looked like a biography.

James was happy he read books, only slightly perturbed he wasn’t skimming through his textbook instead, and stopped in front of the desk, hands pressed against it so he could lean down and whisper. No one else was in the room yet, but the professor was sharp, so he had to be careful.

“Alright, hand it over,” he scolded, and Keith pulled the book down just enough to peer over the top of it with far too amused indigo eyes.

“Hand what over? My heart is already yours, Cadet Griffin.”

“The knife you little punk,” James hissed, struggling to maintain his lecturing attitude through the heavy blush, “I saw what you did on that tree outside.”

“Who, me? I didn’t do that.”

“Really, then why do you know exactly what I’m talking about?”

Keith’s eyes shifted to the side, and James reached out to snatch the book up, revealing the smile and narrowing his eyes, “Jared and Kim, right?”

“So it was you!” James pointed in Keith’s face, and he tipped back further with a loud laugh, “Give it! You’re just gonna get in trouble!”

Keith sighed and set all four legs of his seat onto the floor, fishing through his pocket and pulling out the knife, letting James snatch it and stuff it into his own pocket, “You know it’s not like I don’t have others.”

“I’ve subdued you for now,” James humphed, dragging the chair from the desk in front of Keith’s closer and dropping into it so he could lean one elbow against Keith’s desk, flipping through the book he’d been reading, “What is this anyway?”

“Shiro wrote it,” Keith said, arms folded over the desk, chin against his forearms, “I guess it’s normal to write thesis’ and novels about experiences in space or whatever. Commander Holt, he was who Shiro went with on his first trip up there, he’s got like five books published, but they’re all about quantum physics and science, so I couldn’t really follow them. Shiro gave me that one, said I might find it useful.”

“Do you?” Keith shrugged loosely, reaching out with one hand to take the book back.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he answered, flipping the cover open to the title page, “It’s really good though. He’s good at recounting details and whatnot. I guess being able to write and record logs like this is necessary if we wanna be pilots, especially in space.”

“That’s why we have a constructive literature class, Keith,” James reminded, and Keith’s eyes seemed to fill with bright realization, as if he’d never picked up on the purpose of that particular class before.

Which was cute in its own definition, and James just smiled as he watched the lights dance behind Keith’s wide eyes, lips parted in a look of pleased surprise. He quickly turned away and dragged his chair up to the desk he’d taken when more people started to filter in, pulling out what books he needed and setting them out as the professor at the front began his lesson for the day.

Halfway through copying notes and he could feel it, a prick at the back of his neck as his hair stood on end, that feeling he got when he just knew Keith wasn’t paying attention. He could already see him yawning as he tried to concentrate on writing notes before giving up and staring out the window. He always did this, yet he always had decent grades.

Keith certainly didn’t excel academically, but he could pass as average, which bothered James, because if Keith actually applied himself, he could probably shoot past James both in the simulators and on paper.

He peered over his shoulder, wincing when he caught sight of Keith hunched down in his chair with his book open, looking more intrigued with the contents of Shiro’s excursions into space than the contents of fighter maintenance. James eyes lifted up a fraction and panic choked him when he noticed the professor had been pacing the aisles as he lectured, and was now behind Keith, just staring at him with squinted eyes.

The teacher seemed to give Keith a moment to close the book, his arms folded and gold eyes peering down behind the lenses of his glasses, but if Keith noticed him standing there he didn’t show it, and took his time turning the page to his book. James wanted to strangle him. The officer beat him to it by reaching down and plucking the book easily out of his hands, leaving them empty with an annoyed look on his face.

“While I certainly approve of you reading books regarding your future profession,” the teacher started as he took a few steps forward, pausing to read over the title and the author before sighing and turning to eye Keith, who was pouting, “I’d really prefer you to read them in your spare time. This class is just as important as Lieutenant Shirogane’s book.”

“I already read through the chapters in the textbook about fighter maintenance and technician,” Keith revealed, still leaning forward with his arms folded against the desk, “What more is there to learn if it’s all in the book?”

A hush was only broken by near inaudible whispers, and the professor narrowed his eyes more at Keith, who just stared right back at him in challenge, “Fair point, cadet,” the professor decided, turning and walking back to the front, setting the book down almost reverently before turning so he could lean back against the desk, arms folding across his chest, “Perhaps you can give me a full oral report on the subject after class, because you’ll be staying after an additional hour.”

James cringed as if he’d been the one to receive the punishment, but Keith just sank down in his seat, looking out the window with a disinterested expression that seemed to annoy the experienced fighter pilot even more. It was dropped there, though, and he returned to his lecture, turning his back to the room so he could write something on the board.

Keith took that chance to kneel on his seat and lean over the desk, whispering into James’ ear, “Wanna go somewhere after class?”

James tensed, “Keith you literally just got detention.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Keith assured, and James caught sight of orange from the corner of his eye, turning to see Keith tapping at the screen of his phone.

“Put that away, seriously.”

“I will, promise,” Keith whispered, head bowing against James’ shoulder, making him freeze completely, pen unmoving in his hand, knuckles going white and face burning at the feel of Keith’s hair tickling his jaw, “Just sending a distress signal.”

“Using flight lingo won’t make this better,” James hissed, and Keith pulled away to sit back in his seat, allowing James the chance to relax, shoulders sagging with a sigh just as their professor turned back around, one hand on his hip, his words a whir of noise that James could barely register.

He’d been right before. Keith’s hair was remarkably soft. It smelt nice too.

It took James an embarrassing amount of time to return to his mind, shifting a bit in his seat and scrambling to copy down the notes he’d missed before the bell, stuffing everything into his bag once it did go off.

“You’re going to be here for an extra hour, remember,” he chided Keith, closing his bag and standing up, “If you want we can do something once you’re freed.”

“I’m not staying here for an extra hour, I already have plans,” Keith said nonchalantly, reaching over to grab James by the sleeve and drag him a few steps closer so he was standing beside his seat, curling a finger in a sign for James to come closer, and after hesitating, the cadet did, leaning down so Keith could whisper to him, “I have a secret weapon.”

James just squinted in distrust, eyes snapping to the front of the room where students were filing out, the halls filled with the hum of footsteps and students laughing and yelling at each other. He was somewhat surprised to see Shiro standing in the doorway, pressed up against the frame in an attempt to make himself smaller so cadets could pass, holding his phone above his head, which was tilted back so he could stare at the screen, a crooked grin on his lips.

“Takashi, what are you doing here?” James and Shiro both turned their attention to the teacher still standing at the front of the room, holding an armful of books and sporting a rather confused and concerned expression.

“Hey, I was coming to see you,” Shiro answered, sidestepping past cadets and quickly stowing his phone away as he made his way across the room, where the professor had furrowed his brow.

“Unusual for you to do when classes are still going. Are you feeling alright?” he set the pile of books down, keeping one hand against them as he turned to meet Shiro, who just stood there as the other man lifted a hand to his forehead, fingers buried in the black fringe of his hair.

“Oh yea, I feel fine.”

“Did you eat?”

“I ate.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, Adam.”

“You’re sure nothing is wrong?”

Shiro just set one hand against his hip, rolling his eyes somewhat dramatically, “I’m sure. Can’t I just come say hi now and then?”

“I suppose,” Adam pulled his hand back, though his eyes were narrowed as they swept over Shiro critically, as if searching for some sign the pilot was in distress, pain, or discomfort.

Keith took that moment to grab James by the wrist, reaching over to shove the window beside his desk open, slapping his other hand over James’ mouth with a quick sh to keep him from saying anything or making any noise. Then dragged James right out the window, where James stood numbly behind Keith as he leaned back into the classroom and held his arm out, giving a thumb up before pushing himself back and grabbing James’ hand, sprinting across the lawn.

Back in the classroom, Shiro didn’t even try to stop his smile, allowing Adam to dote a few more minutes before he took a step back, giving him a suspicious look, “You’re being more lenient about my fussing than you normally are.”

“Am I?”

“Yea, normally you grab my hands to stop me or get annoyed,” Adam accused, arms folding before shrugging, “Well, it’s nice of you to just stand there once in a while and let me worry,” he turned back to his desk, reaching out for his books, “It is nice of you to stop by, but I actually don’t have time to talk.”

“Oh, too bad. Something happen?”

“As a matter of fact,” Adam adjusted his glasses and peered at Shiro from the corners of his eyes, “Your little self appointed protégé earned himself an hour overtime for not listening to the lecture and instead reading this through over me,” he held up Shiro’s book, using it to lightly tap Shiro’s chest, “You’re a bad influence.”

Shiro just laughed, “Keith got in trouble again? Well, not surprised,” he turned his head to look over the room, smile never faltering, “Hm… uh-oh.”

Adam tensed, turning to look over at the desk where Keith had been sitting, now vacant, the window beside it wide open. He slammed the book and his hands onto the desk with a gasp.

“What the hell?!”

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” Shiro sang, leaning closer to place a kiss on Adam’s cheek before turning and starting for the door, “Good luck with him.”

“What?” Adam turned sharply to watch him go, “Takashi did you have something to do with this?!”

Shiro just looked over his shoulder with a beaming smile, “Now what could you mean by that?” he asked, not waiting for an answer as he stepped out of the room, waving a hand, “I’ll see you later in the faculty lounge!”

James didn’t know what to think about the situation really. He was being dragged through the campus by the hand, all he could see was a head of black hair, too focused on the fact they were holding hands to comprehend the fact Keith just ditched detention; and somehow swindled Takashi Shirogane into helping with the great escape.

“H-hang on!” James dug his heels into the ground and pulled Keith to a halt, their hands still inexplicably locked together as dark blue eyes turned to stare in surprise, “Keith you’re just going to keep getting into trouble if you do this all the time! Skipping detention is seriously bad! What am I gonna do if you get in so much trouble it can’t be smoothed over? I don’t want you to get kicked out!”

Keith just stared at him, the surprised look falling into something more stoic, a face that Keith would show people who weren’t James. He didn’t interrupt him when he was being lectured, and when he was done he just turned his head to look away, silent for a few seconds before shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t skip detentions, you know. If I have to stay after because I got in trouble then I do. This time, though… I mean, it was Adam, and Shiro can smooth things over pretty easily with him, and I really…,” he reached up to scratch his neck, “… wanted to take you somewhere, I don’t know.”

James furrowed his brow as Keith shuffled on his feet, down-turned eyes flickering to where there hands were still connected and loosening his grip to pull his arm back toward his side. James responded by quickly reaching out and taking his hand back, startling himself as much as he did Keith.

They just stood there for a moment, holding each others hand between them, until James opened his mouth to break the silence with a broken voice, “It’s okay… if that’s what you were doing, um… but I mean… you really can’t break rules even if it’s for me, okay? Got that? Ju-just this one time is fine.”

“Your voice keeps cracking.”

“Shu-shut up! What did you want to show me?!” James demanded, clearing his throat and turning his back to Keith, though his fingers wrapped around Keith’s and squeezed, not at all willing to loosen his grip until Keith told him to.

“It’s really okay? You won’t lecture me again?”

James nodded, so Keith hummed, tugging on James’ hand to lead him slower down the path, towards the cadet barracks.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Keith promised, and James decided to take his word for it.

He never did things like this, hide behind trashcans to avoid other students before running down the hall hand in hand with his reckless and frankly migraine inducing boyfriend. He didn’t mind though. Even though he knew he’d get in trouble if they got caught, the soothing warmth of Keith’s hand in his made everything better. Hell, he could probably be expelled at that moment and not mind.

I wanna hold your hand forever, that’s what he wanted to say, but kept the humiliating words to himself as Keith pulled him up a set of narrow stairs hidden behind a door at the end of the top floor hallway. After a few quiet moments they reached another door, which Keith pushed open, both stepping onto the roof.

“What are we doing up here?” James asked as Keith pulled him further, “You’re not gonna throw me off like a Lion King reenactment, are you?”

“That wasn’t part of my plan, no,” Keith answered, stopping when they were standing at the middle of the roof, far enough from the sides that they wouldn’t be spotted, his head tilting back to stare up at the sky, “It’s prettier at night, when you can see all the stars, but… you know.”

“You come up here at night? After curfew?”

“You say that like you’re actually surprised,” Keith noted, eyes closing as a gust of wind battered past them, irritating the hair in his eyes and buffering both their cadet uniforms, “I come up here when I’m… when I can’t think. Normally I try to be alone, and the roof is… you know, no one comes out here, so it felt like a good place,” he was quiet for a minute before dropping his head and looking at James, “If you ever can’t find me, I’m probably up here.”

“Oh,” James uttered the word quietly as Keith looked back at the sky.

He sort of understood it. Keith was slowly opening up to him, revealing things about himself no one else was privy too, and that… that made him feel about as warm as the hand he was holding. He couldn’t believe it, that he was actually holding Keith’s hand. His palm felt sweaty from anxiety, but Keith didn’t bring it up or complain, and he didn’t make any move to detach himself, so James just continued to hold him tightly, a goofy smile on his face as he stared out across the roof.

“It’s… nice up here,” he decided after a moment, looking around at the satellites propped against the corners of the roof, the AC units scattered randomly, strange housing units for who knew what, “Do people come up here often?”

“Not so far,” Keith answered, “Not at night at least. This is the first time I’ve been up here during the day.”

“I… um, thank you for bringing me here,” James said, “For showing me something private I mean. I know it’s hard for you to open up to people and what not. Sometimes I… wonder why you decided to go out with me even, but-.”

“What do you mean why?” Keith asked, giving him an innocently confused look, “Who else would I have chosen?”

“Well, I mean… after all those years of me ignoring you or picking on you, you can’t deny that it’s a little weird,” James shifted on his feet, staring down, tugging at the suddenly too tight collar of his orange and white uniform, “I didn’t think you even thought of people as possible dates, you became so withdrawn, brooding, like a lone wolf.”

“… I like being alone,” Keith mumbled, “I’m used to it after all, but… I don’t like being lonely,” he paused, shoulders hunching a little, “I don’t feel lonely when I’m with you is all. It’s comfortable, I don’t feel like I’m being pressured,” he offered James a side-eyed glare paired with a pout, “Even though you nag me a lot.”

“Someone’s gotta!” James defended, pulling on Keith’s hand so his arm was across his chest, tugging him a few steps closer so James could lean into his space and closer to his face, “You never listen anyway, but you keep getting in trouble with the teachers, so someone’s gotta be there to keep an eye on you! Sorry if it’s annoying…,” James cringed at the idea Keith could be getting that annoyed at him, “I’m really only trying to look out for you, I don’t mean to be uptight all the time.”

He did it for a reason after all… he just didn’t want to lose Keith by making his own father angry. He’d be lying if he said he never considered doing some of the things Keith did. James wanted to do his own thing in the simulators too, push himself to see how much he could do, how far he could go, before his abilities hit their limit. How was he supposed to know what to improve on if he didn’t make one or two mistakes now and then?

Sometimes he wanted to stay out past curfew and watch the stars, sometimes he wanted to IM Keith during one of the classes they were apart, and there were definitely times when James wanted to punch another cadet, or even a teacher. He wanted to race hoverbikes through the desert, ditch classes to spend the day in Plaht city. He wanted to rebel, to figure out who he was supposed to be, but he couldn’t.

If he stepped out of line, his father’s disappointment and anger would fall down on him, and in the end it would just get in the middle of his and Keith’s young relationship. James didn’t know… he didn’t know what it was they had, he didn’t know how long it would last or how long they would take it, but he did know he wanted to stay with Keith as long as he could. He wanted to hold his hand more, hug him, touch his hair… maybe even kiss.

Keith was more important than his need to rebel against his father. If he had to play the good boy to keep this reckless wild child by his side, then he’d do it.

“It’s not like I hate you for it,” Keith spoke up, and James blinked, lifting his gaze from where he’d been memorizing the roof beneath their boots, meeting a curiously worried gaze of indigo, “Besides, when you nag me you never sound like the others do. You nag me like you actually care, not like I’m a nuisance.”

“Well, you are a nuisance sometimes Keith,” James lectured, “That doesn’t mean I’m gonna give up.”

That brought a look of surprise to the other’s face, before it broke into a grin and he ducked his head with a chuckle, squeezing James’ hand, “Right, I know that. Hearing it is nice though,” he turned away again, putting distance between them, “Just don’t tell anyone I showed you this, okay? I don’t really have anywhere else to hide when people annoy me.”

“You can always come to my room,” James offered, realizing what he’d said and tensing up, face burning up instantly, “I-I mean-! Don’t take that a weird way!”

Keith just snorted and laughed, “Don’t you have a roommate?”

“Well, yea,” James shrugged, “but I’m sure he won’t care if you stop by once in a while. He’s always on his tablet anyway.”

Keith seemed to ponder the suggestion for a minute, humming after a while and turning around as if ready to go back inside, “Okay.”

“Who do you room with?” James asked as he followed Keith, “Do you, uh… you know, talk to him?”

“Not really,” Keith admitted, “I always wait till he’s sleeping to show up, and I leave for class before he wakes up. So we’ve never talked, and I don’t really want to.”

James felt both relieved and sad by that. Not that he didn’t trust Keith around other people, he could feel through the tight grasp of Keith’s fingers just how loyal he was. Keith was hard to read and hard to talk to or get along with, it was honestly a miracle he and James had started this… whatever it was, at all. He definitely wasn’t worried about other people sweeping Keith off his feet in some romantic and dramatic way. If they even tried, it would either go right over Keith’s head, or he just wouldn’t care. He wasn’t the kind of person who would date just anyone after all.

Sad, though, that Keith was still this withdrawn and antagonistic. He would never be able to make friends that way, have any sort of companionship. Sure he had Shiro, and of course he would always have James, but even James had friends he could talk to and laugh with, be himself around. Keith just admitted that while he liked being alone, he didn’t like being lonely, but what else would he ever be when he didn’t even have a social life outside of James and Shiro?

“Hey,” James stopped on the steps leading back down into the barracks, tugging Keith’s hand to get him to pause two steps below him, waiting for him to turn before speaking, “You know it’s okay to make friends, right? I know… it’s hard for you to talk to people in general, but there are some nice cadets. Shiro and I can’t be with you every hour of every day, so maybe it would be good, healthy for you to make more friends?”

Keith blanched at the suggestion, as if it was the most ridiculous thing James had ever said, “You heard me say I don’t mind being alone, didn’t you? I know you can’t be with me all the time, that’s fine.”

“I know that, I did hear you, I’m just saying,” James stepped down so he was on the same step as Keith, “Normally a lack of social interaction is unhealthy and can lead to things like depression. I read it in a book. I also know you’re the kind of person who can get drained emotionally if you’re around the wrong people for too long, but if you can manage to surround yourself with people who don’t tire you out, it could be healthy for you.”

Keith still looked uninterested, his brow furrowed and lips in a pout, though after a moment of clearly intense thought, his eyes lit up and he looked up at James, “So you’re saying if I spend more time around the people who don’t emotionally drain me, I’ll be in a better mood, less broody, and it would be good for my mental health?”

“Yes, exactly!” James praised, and he really did believe Keith was getting the point, “I know it’ll be hard for you to make friends, but I’ll help if you want. There are some people in class who are pretty cool, and you intimidate just about everyone, but if I break the ice for you-.”

“No, that’s okay,” Keith pulled his hand from James and patted his shoulder, looking a bit too intrigued with whatever plans he was piecing together in his head, “I think I can figure something out,” and with that he turned, started to descend the stairs, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Classes are over, though.”

“Yea, I know.”

James didn’t know what he meant, in that case. He didn’t know why Keith looked so excited and determined, and frankly he was way too scared to ask. If Keith was ready to make his own friends, that was good then. James couldn’t lead him by the hand into a social situation (even if he did like holding his hand), and he didn’t have the time or energy to continue his lecture. So he figured it was good that Keith took to the idea of spending time with people who didn’t emotionally drain him so quickly, and just smiled.

He didn’t get back to his dorm room until later that night after a study session with Ina Liefsdottir in the library, but when he stepped into the bedroom twenty minutes before curfew, he was surprised to see his roommate pacing the room throwing things into a bag, a confused and almost ill expression on his face.

“What’s the matter with you?” James had to ask, and his roommate paused to look at him with wide eyes.

“They’re kicking me out.”

“Wh-?” James dropped his bag to the ground, “Of the Garrison?”

“No, of the room!” the other cadet threw his arms out, “They said they wanted to switch around some dorm residents because a cadet was causing problems and his roomie was sick of dealing with him!”

James tasted something bitter in his mouth, and there it was, that tingle at the back of his neck that told him Keith was doing something stupid, “… don’t tell me… who’s my new roommate then?”

The knock on his door answered him, and he backed up so he could open the door, not nearly as surprised as he could have been to see Keith standing there, duffel bag hanging over his shoulder and a stoic, almost lazy look on his face.

“Good fucking luck, Griffin,” his old roommate hissed, hugging his bag to his chest and scrambling from the room, shoulder ramming into Keith’s before he disappeared down the hall.

Keith and James both watched him go before James squinted at his boyfriend, “Keith… what…”

“You said I needed to spend more time with people who didn’t drain me,” Keith explained simply, walking into the room and looking around as James shut the door, watching as the dark haired pilot tossed his things onto the now unoccupied bottom bunk, “but frankly I hate everyone, and Shiro already has a roommate. You’re the only person I don’t hate to be around.”

“Keith, I… you know originally I meant for you to make new friends,” James said, watching Keith sit on the edge of the bed, “How did you even convince the principal to switch you?”

Something like mischief glinted in Keith’s eyes, “You really wanna know?”

James held his hands up quickly, “No, never mind, I think I’m fine,” he picked his bag from where he’d dropped it, walking over to his desk and sitting in the chair, arms folded and leaning back as Keith started to empty his bag like he’d been sharing the room forever.

“You’re fine taking the lower bunk?”

Keith shrugged, falling onto his back, arms wrapped around his bag, “Yea, it’s fine. I prefer it. Like I’m tucked in an alcove or something.”

“Okay… well… I’m getting ready to sleep. Do you want to take a shower?”

“You can, I’m fine,” Keith said, and James eyed him before standing up, pausing when he continued unexpectedly, “Was this a bad idea?”

“Huh?”

“Switching rooms. Maybe it was a bad idea. You probably get tired of dealing with me. I figure everyone does, so… I don’t really know what I was thinking. I got excited and just made a decision without thinking. Spending time with you exclusively, outside of class… we normally don’t eat lunch together or anything either. People still think we hate each other or something, even though we’re over that. I don’t think anyone even knows we’re friends, let alone that we’re dating. Shiro knows, but I told him, so…”

“Wait, Shiro knows?” James felt both panicked and embarrassed at the revelation, and Keith nodded, hugging his bag tighter.

“He kinda… guessed, but… he was the one who convinced me to ask you out. He said that if I waste time to wait for the right time to confess how I felt, then I would just lose the chance in the end, so…”

James covered his mouth and nose with a hand, attempting to rub away the blush before speaking, “Well you didn’t ask me out, remember, I asked you out.”

Keith squinted at him, “I asked you on a date first.”

“No, you asked me to go with you to Plaht city, I spent the day not knowing it was a date. Then a week later I asked you out.”

“Technically I asked first.”

“You did a really bad job though.”

“James,” Keith sat up, glaring at James, though it was easy to see the anxiety behind the irritation on his face, “Do you want me to leave? Was this a bad idea? I’ll understand if you don’t want to share a room with me,” he winced, bowing his head, “Dating me is probably frustrating enough, so… if you want to just break up-.”

“Whoa, Keith, stop,” James took three steps until he was in front of Keith, crouching down beside the bed, hands on the mattress so he could look up at Keith, whose face was halfway shadowed by his hair, “I don’t want to break up with you, and I’m not mad or anything. I think this was a sort of reckless idea, but I don’t want you to leave. I do think there might be complications if it came out we were dating, but it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. Besides, it might be nice,” James smiled, “I want to be able to spend more time with you too, and being roommates give us an excuse to be seen together more often. No one will question me spontaneously joining you for lunch if we’re roommates. Maybe we’re discussing bed adjustments or memorizing the door code and bathroom schedules, who knows?”

Keith stared at James for a drawn moment before falling back with a hum, turning onto his side, hiding a smile, “You’re kind of an idiot.”

James frowned at that, “You’re the one carving our initials into every Garrison tree you can find.”

“I thought it would be romantic.”

“There are better ways to go about romance.”

“You’ll probably have to teach me sometime,” Keith decided, “Going to sleep now.”

James got the feeling he was just hiding from any more of the conversation, but huffed out a sigh and stood up, “Goodnight.”

He turned away to go about his shower like he’d intended to do before, but stopped halfway there, making the mistake of looking over his shoulder at the bed, cheeks flushing red as it finally occurred to him that Keith, his current boyfriend of just a few months, was now sharing a room with him.

Maybe… maybe this was a bad idea after all…

Not that he’d be the one to say that out loud.


End file.
